


Seven Stars

by R_Blackbird



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Biblical References, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Blackbird/pseuds/R_Blackbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was perfectly happy as a pre-law major until he became a prophet of the Lord. Everything about this new life sucked, especially his ass of a guardian angel, Gabriel</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to drawsshits who gave me the idea for this. Thanks for being so patient with me, I promise I'll have more drawable material soon!
> 
> Also, shout out to klingcrowley. Thank you, you beautiful person who fixed all my mistakes.
> 
> Keeping this T right now, it might go up, depending.

Sam knew Halloween wasn't going to go wonderfully for him. Even though his best friends were taking him out for a drink, he couldn't hate the idea more. The concept of supernatural beings, out there and beyond the understanding of people, had always made him a little more than uncomfortable. Setting apart a day to celebrate these creatures (even though he knew there was more history to Halloween besides the secular holiday it was in modern-day America) seemed ridiculous.

Right now, Sam was sitting at a booth with his girlfriend Jess to the right of him, and his best friends Adam and Jo were sitting across from him. Since it was a halloween party, Adam was dressed as a zombie (which he insisted was a ghoul because it sounded cooler), Jo as his corpse bride, and Jess as a sexy nurse. Only Sam was left in regular clothing, which was his personal protest against this holiday. He rolled his eyes at Adam's comment over his beer. "Yeah, so I ditched you and left you to an apartment all by yourself for Jess, boo hoo," he snipped. "You've got Jo to take care of you now. Aren't you happy I'm not there to interrupt your couple time? Cause I sure as hell am."

Adam flicked Sam. "Yeah yeah, I get what you're saying. You make such a good argument. You should be a lawyer."

Jess leaned forward, grinning. "He's going to be, with those LSAT scores he got,' she bragged.

"Oh come on, it's not that big of a deal," Sam said, but smiled into his drink all the same.

"Yeah, he acts all humble," Jess smirked, "but he scored a 174."

Jo raised her eyebrows. "Oh, is that good?" she asked.

Jess cut off Sam's answer. "It's very good," she laughed.

"Nice dude," Adam nodded. "You can go to any law school you want!"

Sam shrugged. "Actually, I got an interview here at Stanford," he responded. "I think I got a shot at a full ride next year."

Sam's friends took turns high fiving him. "Okay, I got the next round," Adam declared, getting up.

Jess caught Sam's eye, placing a hand on his thigh. "Seriously, I'm proud of you," she assured him. "You're gonna knock 'em dead on Monday, and you're gonna get that full ride. I know it."

Sam looked at her, suddenly struck with the realization that Jess was far too good for him to be real. "What would I do without you?"

"Mmm, crash and burn," she sighed, grinning. Sam leaned forward to kiss her, until he was hit by a peanut. He glared, seeing Jo grinning back at him.

"Seriously, I love you two, but quit with the making out at the table!" she exclaimed. "Adam and I don't do that!"

"Yeah, well maybe it's because we've been together longer," Sam shot back.

Adam came back with the shots grinning. "Ladies, ladies, calm down," he said. "I've got the alcohol, so we can all get drunk off our asses and forget our petty quarrels and problems for a few glorious hours."

Everyone at the table laughed, grabbing a drink. "To Sam," Adam said, raising his glass. "May he rock the interview and become a kickass lawyer, and may we never need to use his awesome lawyer skills to get us out of trouble with the law."

"To Sam!"

~ ~ ~

Sam and Adam were the only two left at the bar, Jess and Jo having long since decided to go to their respective apartments. There was a question that had been weighing on Sam's mind all night, and now that it was just the boys and he was considerably less inhibited with the help of alcohol, he decided it was time to bring it up. "Hey, uh, Adam?" he asked.

Adam looked up, grinning. "Yeah man what's up?"

Sam swallowed. Now or never. "Hey I was wondering... you know, me and Jess..."

"Yeah dude, you two are awesome!" Adam said. "Not as awesome as me and Jo, but still. You two are perfect for each other."

Sam scowled playfully. "Shut up, we're way more awesome," he retorted. "But uh, what would you think if I proposed to her?"

Adam blinked slowly, obviously processing the information, before grinning. "You should totally do it. She's in love with you, she'd never say no."

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Course she is."

Sam beamed. "Thanks man. One more thing, would you help me pick out a ring if I make you the best man?"

Adam gaped a bit. "Seriously, you want me as the best man?"

"No joke," Sam promised.

"Hell yeah I will!" Adam exclaimed, leaning forward to hug Sam tightly. "You're gonna make an awesome husband."

~ ~ ~

Sam staggered into the apartment he and Jess shared around 2 AM. The place was strangely quiet, so he assumed Jess had gone to sleep. He made his way around the apartment, blindly stubbing his toe on a table. Swearing, he staggered to the bedroom.

Jess wasn't in the bed, which was more than enough to make Sam suspicious. He flicked on the light to see a red pool of liquid on the rumpled sheets and nothing else. Something splashed on the spot, and Sam looked up to find Jess pinned to the ceiling, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Sam pinched himself, praying that this could boil down to just having more shots than he had thought. Nothing he did seemed to make it go away. "Jess?" he called out incredulously.

Jess gasped, and suddenly the ceiling lit up in flames, the fire soon engulfing her.

"Jess!" Sam screamed, lunging forward. Before he could begin to reach for her, something hit the back of his head sharply. Time seemed to slow as he fell to the floor. The last thing he saw before everything went black was Jess' burning nurse hat, floating to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam was perfectly happy as a pre-law major until he became a prophet of the Lord. Everything about this new life sucked, especially his ass of a guardian angel, Gabriel

Sam awoke to being chained up, his arms stretched above him and his back flat . There was light coming from a single bulb in the middle of the room which came a few feet shy of engulfing Sam in it's circle of light. As the grogginess wore off, a sharp pain in his head made itself known. The pain reminded him of everything that had happened the previous night - the fire, the pain, Jess...

Jess. The last image of her on the ceiling was seared into his mind. All at once, the grief and panic hit him. "Jess! JESS!" he screamed, thrashing at the chain.

The only sound that answered his cries was the clinking of metal until suddenly a door opened. The light blinded him momentarily, but as he squinted against it he could make out vague shapes of people before it slammed shut. As his eyes adjusted again he saw there was a man standing directly under the light, dressed in a nice suit and sporting a slight beard. "Stop your screaming," he said softly, the British accent cutting through the air. "You're disturbing my employees."

"Who are you?" Sam asked wildly.

The suited man groaned. "God, can't any of you come up with a more interesting line?" When Sam did nothing but give him a bewildered look, he sighed. "The name's Crowley, King of Hell. Nice to finally meet you, Sam Winchester."

Sam frowned. "What? How- wh- what do you mean by King of Hell?" he stammered. "And what are you doing this to me for? I've never done anything! I'm just a pre-law student!"

"I'm getting there, let me have the dramatic revealing," Crowley complained. "Does no one here have a sense of finesse?"

Had Sam not been in fear of his life, he would've made some snarky comebacks to several of this guy's nonchalant attitude. However, for now he could only look meek and pray that someone roofied him at the party and this was some weird drug induced dream. He'd never wanted to wake up hungover more than now.

"Just... please, I'm not important," Sam insisted. "I'm a broke college student, I don't have anything for you, let me go home, I'm begging you..."

"Oh, but you are," Crowley chuckled. "You, my boy, are a prophet." Sam squinted in confusion.

 

"What, like Moses and Ezekiel in the bible?" he asked slowly. "That's ridiculous. I don't believe half of that stuff anyway."

"You don't need to believe it, moose, you just need to be able to read it," the suited man assured him. "By it I mean the angel and demon tablets. Just translate it and give it to us, no muss no fuss."

"Why would I give anything to you?" Sam asked, slightly more bold. With a snap of Crowley's fingers, he felt a white-hot pain in his stomach and screamed, unable to bend over as he was chained up. Still, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stop crying out. "You killed my girlfriend, I'm not giving you anything," he growled through the pain.

Crowley raised an eyebrow and twisted his hand, and Sam sobbed as another wave of pain wrenched his gut, tasting blood in his mouth. "You think that's the worst we can do, you insolent boy?" he murmured, sounding almost amused. "We know where your family is. We know every one of your friends, your mentors... we've been tracking you for years, Sam. We may not be able to kill you, but we can kill those you love, one by one, until you say yes. Jess was just the first in the very long list."

At Jess' name, Sam glared up at him, hair falling in his face. "Bastard," he spat.

"I prefer being called resourceful enough to make ends meet, but different strokes for different folks," Crowley shrugged. "I don't need you to like me, I just need you to like your family enough to help us."

"They kicked me out when I told them I wanted to go to college," Sam said slowly. "They don't care about me anymore."

"Oh, but you care about them still, don't you?" Crowley asked. At Sam's lack of answer, he laughed. "That's your problem, Sam, you care too much. Especially about your brother Dean, isn't that right?"

"Don't touch him!" Sam yelled wildly, clamping his mouth shut immediately after. Apparently, he learned nothing from pre-law about keeping neutral. What a great time to discover this.

Crowley grinned in a predatory way, as if this was a game of poker and he knew exactly what cards Sam held. "How about a deal?" he replied. "I can write up a contract promising not to touch your pretty boy of a brother as long as you translate the tablets for us."

Sam sighed. He knew he'd been beaten. While these people might've killed Jess, he knew that he couldn't afford to get his brother killed too. "Fine," he muttered dejectedly.

Suddenly, Crowley seemed thrilled. "Wonderful," he smiled, and in that moment, he looked like the perfect business man. With a snap, a long piece of parchment paper was summoned, and he opened it to point to the very bottom. "You sign here, I sign here, and we're all done. You can get out of these chains, and I get the tablets translated."

"Why me?" Sam asked.

"You're just now wondering?" Crowley retorted with a scoff. "You're a prophet, moose. The only one in the world. Which means you're the only one who can read these tablets. And these tablets contain the secrets to the angels and demons, how they work. You see, once I know that, I can bend all those feathery idiots and those few pesky vigilante demons to my will."

"So you're going for world domination?" Sam deadpanned.

"Yes and no," the demon answered. "I want security. To coin an American colloquialism, the shit has hit the fan in the supernatural, unbeknownst to you ignorant humans. I took over as King of Hell after Lucifer was locked up eons ago, and not everyone's liked that."

"I wonder why," Sam grumbled under his breath.

The only thing to hint that Crowley had heard Sam's comment was a slight twitch of his lips. "I'm happy with managing Hell, causing a little chaos, but this needs to be a more efficient business. With groups this large, nothing gets done. There's too much fighting to do agree on anything. So, if I have the tablets..."

"...you can control everyone. Sounds like communism," Sam retorted.

"Karl Marx had something going when he thought of it," Crowley said, unabashed by the derogatory tone. "If we all have the same goal, we all work towards it and the job gets done in half the time. So much less exhausting."

Sam sighed. There was logic to Crowley's thought. Very messed up logic, but logic all the same. "Just give me the pen and let me go so I can sign this damn paper," he told Crowley.

Crowley snapped and the chains faded out of existence. Sam rubbed his wrists as he stumbled down from the wall, and took the pen when it was offered to him. He glanced over the paper, but it appeared to be in Latin. As tired as he was, he didn't care about the fine print he was sure the demon had slipped some tricks into, he just wanted his brother safe. Finally, he signed it, watching as Crowley did the same.

"Congrats, kid, you just made your first deal with the devil," Crowley grinned. He waved his hand and the doors flew open. A brunette walked in, holding two stone tablets. "This is Meg. Meg, meet Sam," he introduced, as if this was a business meeting. "Meg will be watching over you for the next few days to make sure you have enough food to get by, and to make sure you're staying on task and not trying to figure out a way to escape. Believe me, you won't be able to."

Meg smiled at him, and the sight reminded Sam of a shark. "We're gonna have lots of fun, you and I," Meg drawled. She leaned in inches from Sam's face, and he refused to back away. Meg's smile only got wider. "I like this one."

"Start any funny business and you won't get this one as eye candy, Meg," Crowley warned her.

Meg pouted. "Yes, sir," she patronized.

Crowley patted her on the head and began walking on the door. "Meg, be a doll and get some paper for the boy, will you? He's going to need a lot of it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I owe everyone a big apology. I said I'd start updating more, and then it never happened. I got grounded, and just a bunch of other stuff started happening. Anyway, I have the summer off, and I have a mighty urge to actually finish this fic, so I should be doing better about updating.
> 
> Thanks to my lovely beta at casgrace.tumblr.com! Everyone should go check her out, she's got a wonderful blog and an even better person is running it!

Sam didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was far more difficult to read the tablets than he thought. Something had flickered in him when he first saw the tablets, a dim recognition. Translating felt like he was trying to remember the early years of his childhood and writing them down. The ability came in sporadic bursts, the only constant being that he would be sweating and panting by the time the episode of recognition was over. 

After each episode, Meg would faithfully bring him a damp washcloth, cooled by water from the filthy sink in the corner, and press it to his forehead. At first he had pushed her away, but little by little he had come to trust her, or at least trust she wouldn’t harm him. “You’re doing so well, Sam,” she’d murmur, gently pushing the papers away from him to give him a break from the excruciating and dizzying headache. One day, he thought he heard her whisper “You’re so close to walking out that door,” but he wasn’t certain.

Sam asked her about it tentatively when the episode was over, and she glanced over her shoulder. Despite no one being there, she frowned. “I think you’re imagining things, Sam. Spending all your time in this place will do that,” she told him, but her guarded eyes told a different story.

Crowley would come in every so often to check on his progress. Sam couldn’t tell how long he’d spent in this place, or how frequent the visits were; time blurred into nothing here. Some days, Crowley would heave a disappointed sigh and scold him for being lazy. Others, he’d grin excitedly and give Sam a pat on the back and double rations of food. On a particularly productive day, he got to go outside for an hour. The bright sun and the crisp smell of the air had almost been too intense after his confinement, but he had savored every second of it. 

Somehow, Sam managed to translate a whole three paragraphs in an episode, a new record. While Sam’s chest heaved, Meg dutifully brought her rag over, stroking back the sweaty hair that had plastered itself against his forehead. After his head stopped feeling like it was going to split in two, he opened his eyes and looked carefully at Meg. 

She was no longer looking at him. Instead, her gaze was fixed to the paper he had just scribbled the translations on. He cringed slightly. When he had translated, he had thought dimly that this might get him in trouble, as it was instructions on how to banish a room of demons at once. 

Now Meg was staring at it with her mouth open in shock, and he was certain he had been right. “Please don’t hurt Dean,” he begged, shrinking away. “I swear, that’s just what it said…”

It took Meg a couple seconds to hear him. When she did look at him, her grin was smug. “Don’t worry, this is just what I needed.” She patted his cheek, before pushing herself away from the desk and handing Sam the pencil again. “Erase the title. Replace it with something more menacing, maybe ‘how to open the gates of hell’ or whatever.”

Sam gaped at her. “What?”

Meg huffed. “I’ll explain later, Sam. If you want to save yourself and your brother, just do what I say, got it?”

Oddly, Sam found himself nodding before erasing the title and writing her suggestion in its stead, making it sound appropriately fancy so it matched the rest of the style of the translations. 

While he wrote, Meg walked over to the other side of the room. She pulled out a can of spray can from a box on the ground before spraying over one of the sigils on the wall. 

"What-" Sam started, but Meg interrupted him. 

"Seriously, calm the questions for two seconds, will ya?" She painted over it with a new sigil, before setting the can down. "Now, how are you doing? Did you change what I told you?" 

Sam nodded shakily, handing the paper to her in bewilderment. Meg took it without a word, but an odd grin stretched over her face. “Listen, don’t act like anything’s up, got it?” she asked him, voice low. “If you’re acting strange, it’s because you’re dehydrated. Just go with everything I say. Understand?”

Sam swallowed. “Y-yeah, I think so.”

Meg smiled that odd smile again. “Good.” With that, she walked back across the room, hitting a buzzer by the door. “Crowley? We’ve got something.”

Crowley’s excitement was apparent over the scratchy intercom, and at his insistence Meg rattled off ingredients. “I’ll be there momentarily,” he promised, before the system clicked off. 

At once, the pieces clicked into place. “You’re trying to bust me out.” It wasn’t a question, save for the slightly confused tone. 

Meg laughed. “I knew you’d catch on eventually. But yes, that’s the plan. Follow my lead and don’t screw it up.” 

Sam was about to respond when the door opened. Again, it was absurdly bright in contrast to his room, which was why he didn’t register that there were several other men with Crowley. Sam assumed they were demons. 

Crowley smiled at Meg. “Thank you for your service, dear. You’re dismissed for now. I believe you have some business to take care of outside, don’t you?”

"Yes sir," she smirked, winking at Sam. "I’ll let the other know and get them ready."

"Good girl," he said, patting her on the head. "I see a promotion in your immediate future."

Meg laughed lightly, giving Sam a look of warning before walking away. 

Crowley’s attention turned to Sam. “Now, my dear boy, I believe you are the one that needs to execute this, no?”

Sam took the paper back with shaking hands. He spread them out, beginning the ritual. He didn’t know he could speak Latin with such clarity until then, but in the moment it didn’t matter. He only ordered the demons to get what ingredients he needed, placing them in before watching everything go up in blue flame. 

Sam looked up expectantly, praying he hadn’t done it wrong. It took a second or two, but suddenly an aura of power rushed from the fire and blew the demons into nothingness against the wall, their silhouettes the only trace of evidence they existed. 

Crowley remained for a moment longer than the others, just long enough to shoot him a murderous look and a “You little-” before joining his compatriots into nothingness. 

Fatigue washed over Sam, and he slumped back against the wall. He knew the others would come looking for him, but for now he felt victorious. He had banished the king of hell, that had to be something big, right? 

Suddenly, a flapping noise was heard, and a man appeared in the room. He was dressed plainly, in a red shirt, olive jacket, blue jeans and boots. If Sam didn’t know better, he’d think he was another demon, but this person gave off a much different vibe, almost palpable energy in the air. The man smirked, and Sam realized he had light brown eyes, almost golden in this dim warehouse. 

"So, you like the view I take it?" the man asked, and Sam blushed, realizing he’d been staring. 

"Wh- who are you?"

The blond rolled his eyes. “They call me Gabriel,” he answered simply. “And thanks to Meg, I can now properly sweep you off your feet and save your ass. 

Sam blinked. “What?”

Gabriel sighed. “Kids these days,” he muttered. “No appreciation for chivalry.” With that, he walked towards Sam, pressing two fingers to his forehead. The flapping sound was heard again, and then they were in what appeared to be an upscale log cabin. The window showed the most beautiful trees Sam had ever seen, growing hundreds of feet tall, and surrounded underneath with smaller vibrant green shrubs. Inside, there was a big flat screen tv mounted on the wall, with a ridiculously large collection of DVDs. Behind him, Sam looked back to see a large green leather couch, and he looked down to see an obnoxious orange rug. 

"Strange color scheme," he noted, and was surprised when Gabriel laughed. 

"I like you, kiddo," he claimed. 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but seriously, what the hell’s going on here?”

Gabriel’s smile faded, and he walked over to the couch, plopping down on it unceremoniously. “Well, sit down, Sam, this is one hell of a story to stand up for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we get to meet Gabriel! Sorry it's taken so long, exposition kinda ran away with me. They'll be some cute sabriel stuff next chapter. Hoped you liked it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize it'd been almost a month since I updated last, I'm sorry. I promise I'll have a new chapter written up before the end of the month.
> 
> As always, thanks to Julia (casgrace on tumblr) for beta'ing! Hope you all enjoyed this! I found out I quite enjoy writing Sam and Gabriel fighting, is that bad?

"So, here's the lowdown, kid," Gabriel said as Sam sat down. "You're a prophet, and every prophet is assigned an archangel to watch over them and all that. I'm yours. Heaven's had Meg on our side for a while now, even if she is a demon, so she helped us break you out from the inside, and voilà, here we are!"

Gabriel grinned, obviously enjoying Sam's bewildered expression. So many questions were running through his head, he was about to explode. For some reason, the first one he asked Gabriel was "You're an archangel? But you're so…“ Sam paused, looking him over, "small."

Gabriel leered. "Oh, so size matters to you then?"

With that, Sam realized how angry he was. He had always had an issue with keeping his anger hidden until it imploded, leaving a mess in its wake. It had happened when he was told by his dad he couldn't go to college, and he could feel it happening again, but was powerless to stop it. 

"Oh, so you're going to be a fucking smart-ass about this then, huh?" Sam spat. "Just joke around, pretending that everything's just peachy, when my girlfriend's dead and God knows where my family is! Haha, my pain's just fucking hilarious! Why not make a comedy about it!"

Gabriel actually flinched. "Sam, I'm just trying..."

It was too late to stop Sam's rampage. "Trying to do what? Make me feel better? Well guess what, the only thing that would make me feel better is being back in my apartment with my girlfriend. Guess that's never gonna happen, huh?" He stared down Gabriel, and the slightest hint of guilt flickered across his face. "Some guardian angel you are; you couldn't save me from being kidnapped or Jess from being killed."

A crack resounded throughout the room, and Sam felt an electric shock run through him. In a heartbeat, Gabriel was in his face, gripping his collar hard, any hint of guilt being contorted by rage. "You think you've got it bad?" Gabriel asked him, fuming. "People get hurt - people get killed - because my brothers are a dysfunctional family on steroids and equipped with superhuman power. This is war, Sammy. You getting captured was a smart, strategic move, because we got the demon and angel tablets from it."

"I didn't sign up for any of this," Sam argued, refusing to feel intimidated by the archangel. 

"Well, you got drafted. So suck it up and get used to it, cause whining about it won't change it." Gabriel let go of Sam's collar, shoving him a little as he walked off to stare outside. "It's a damn shame about your girlfriend, but she wasn't the first to die, and she sure as hell won't be the last." Gabriel turned back to Sam. "You can help prevent the deaths, but you're gonna have to work with me. Will you?"

Sam glowered. "For her," he conceded.

"For the record, I still think you're kind of a dick."

Gabriel barked a laugh. "Well, I do have a reputation to keep," he said, and Sam wasn't sure if the comment was meant to invite humor or pity.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So again, I fail to keep my promise. I had it written up by the time I said I would, but my beta didn't get around to reading my work, so I decided to put it up unbeta'd. Hope it's okay despite that.

Sam had no idea how he could feel claustrophobic in the biggest house he had ever set foot in, but it was happening. Gabriel assured him he had all the things he could possibly need in this house, but he neglected to mention freedom wasn't on that list. The archangel wouldn't allow Sam to go off the property, since his wards against demons could only carry so far.

Sam's main job was translating the demon and angel tablets, as Gabriel thought that would be their best bet in winning the war between heaven and earth. He did it, but still yearned to go outside. He couldn't so much as make a move outside without Gabriel right on his tail. 

"Wonderful day, isn't it kiddo?" he'd say.

"I told you, stop calling me that," Sam growled back. "I'm like twice your size."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "And I told you, this is just an appearance. My true size is bigger than North America. I'm trying to save you from spontaneous combustion. You should thank me."

Sam snorted. "You'd think you could at least choose a more intimidating vessel."

"Not really, no," he replied. "Archangels can only choose vessels from a certain bloodline."

"Sounds like you're talking about a royal marriage," Sam smirked. 

"Ha!" Gabriel grinned back at him. "Sometimes you can have a sense of humor. Sometimes."

Such was their relationship - bickering until one of them couldn't help but laugh. It was exhausting, but Sam might've come to enjoy it, if he could ever take a break from it. Fortunately for him, Gabriel had to leave one day when Heaven needed him to fight some particularly unruly demons. 

"Sam," he said as he was getting ready to leave. When Gabriel called him that, Sam knew it was actually serious. "You know the rules. Don't hop the fence. You'll get yourself killed."

"Yes Dad." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Oh, so you've got a daddy kink?" Gabriel snickered as Sam choked. 

"Fuck you," he coughed out, still red.

"Maybe later big boy," the angel replied, smirking. "Right now, I've got demons to fight. Adios!" With a snap and a flapping noise, he was gone.

Sam sat back on the couch, flipping through the channels. Nothing good came on, but he found Dr. Sexy, which made him miss Dean. Whenever he'd ask Gabriel, his face would darken, and he'd change the subject. He tried to press it once, and Gabriel gave him a look so fierce it reminded him that he was dealing with a nearly invincible celestial being, and he never brought it up again.

He turned off the TV, eyes burning. It felt like all he did was sulk these days. He hated not being productive, or being able to have his own freedom. He missed all of it. He glared out the window when he realized he didn't have to put up with it. 

Sam threw open the door, turned back to the house, flipped it off, and jumped the fence. 

Immediately the world shifted and changed around him. The huge cabin was no longer there, replaced by what could only be classified as a shack, and a quickly decomposing one at that. The fence looked dilapidated, and when he tried to climb over it again, he found an invisible force knocked him back.

Sam started to panic. Yet again, his problem with authority was going to get him in trouble. The difference was, this time it might get him killed.


End file.
